‘But your sister, Fergus?’

‘Out, hyperbolical fiend,’ replied the Chief, laughing; ’how vexest thou this man!—­Speak’st thou of nothing but of ladies?’

‘Nay, be serious, my dear friend,’ said Waverley; ’I feel that the happiness of my future life must depend upon the answer which Miss Mac-Ivor shall make to what I ventured to tell her this morning.’

‘And is this your very sober earnest,’ said Fergus, more gravely, ’or are we in the land of romance and fiction?’

’My earnest, undoubtedly.  How could you suppose me jesting on such a subject?’

‘Then, in very sober earnest,’ answered his friend, ’I am very glad to hear it; and so highly do I think of Flora, that; you are the only man in England for whom I would say so much.—­But before you shake my hand so warmly, there is more to be considered.—­Your own family—­will they approve your connecting yourself with the sister of a highborn Highland beggar?’

‘My uncle’s situation,’ said Waverley, ’his general opinions, and his uniform indulgence, entitle me to say, that birth and personal qualities are all he would look to in such a connexion.  And where can I find both united in such excellence as in your sister?’

‘Oh, nowhere!—­CELA Va sans Dire,’ replied Fergus with a smile.  ’But your father will expect a father’s prerogative in being consulted.’

’Surely; but his late breach with the ruling powers removes all apprehension of objection on his part, especially as I am convinced that my uncle will be warm in my cause.’

‘Religion, perhaps,’ said Fergus, ’may make obstacles, though we are not bigoted Catholics.’

’My grandmother was of the Church of Rome, and her religion was never objected to by my family.—­Do not think of my friends, dear Fergus; let me rather have your influence where it may be more necessary to remove obstacles—­I mean with your lovely sister.’

‘My lovely sister,’ replied Fergus, ’like her loving brother, is very apt to have a pretty decisive will of her own, by which, in this case, you must be ruled; but you shall not want my interest, nor my counsel.  And, in the first place, I will give you one hint—­loyalty is her ruling passion; and since she could spell an English book, she has been in love with the memory of the gallant Captain Wogan, who renounced the service of the usurper Cromwell to join the standard of Charles II, marched a handful of cavalry from London to the Highlands to join Middleton, then in arms for the king, and at length died gloriously in the royal cause.  Ask her to show you some verses she made on his history and fate; they have been much admired, I assure you.  The next point is—­I think I saw Flora go up towards the waterfall a short time since—­follow, man, follow! don’t allow the garrison time to strengthen its purposes of resistance—­Alerte A la MURAILLE!  Seek Flora out, and learn her decision as soon as you can—­and Cupid go with you, while I go to look over belts and cartouch-boxes.’